Erin's Rebel by Susan Macatee Read Free Book Online Page B

strong as the day he’d lost his wife to pneumonia. After two years, guilt from not being with her when she passed still consumed him.
    Since her death, he’d found the army to be pure escape, until the death of his younger brother. Living in the large house they’d shared with his parents and Jenny, as well as Amanda, made it impossible to move forward. The place was a daily reminder of all he’d lost.
    Now, he found himself in danger of becoming attracted to a woman he hardly knew and was likely involved with another man. His loneliness had caused him to fall for the first, pretty face available. If he were smart, he’d keep his distance from the woman, but seeing her threatened proved too much to ignore.
    He started back to her tent, steeling himself to keep his emotions in check. He only needed her laundering services and planned to deliver the shirt and leave.
    Mrs. O’Connell wasn’t outside her tent where he’d left her. Perhaps she’d gone inside or left on an errand. He hesitated, trying to decide what to do, but heard a stifled sound from inside the tent. He drew near the canvas and listened. The muffled sound of sniffles turned to sobs. It had to be Mrs. O’Connell. Should he intrude? He considered leaving the shirt outside, but the thought of her alone, crying her heart out, was too much for him. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled the tent flap and peered inside. Mrs. O’Connell sat on her bunk, her face buried in her apron.
    “Ma’am?”
    She glanced up and quickly wiped her flushed face. “Yes?” Her voice cracked.
    He eased his way into the tent. “I beg your pardon for the intrusion, but I heard you and feared Sergeant Wagner may have come back and hurt you.”
    She shook her head, then turned away as if embarrassed.
    “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean...” He lifted the soiled shirt he held. “I forgot this.”
    She turned toward him. “Just leave it...” Her face crumpled. More tears dropped from beneath reddened eyelids.
    “Ma’am?” He set the shirt on her table and stepped to where she sat, reaching his hand out to rest on her slender shoulder. He felt an overwhelming need to protect this woman, but being here in her tent was highly improper. He’d be wise to take his leave. Now.
    Her slim frame heaved beneath his hand. He couldn’t leave her in this state. “Tell me how I can help you.”
    She shook her head. “No one can help me.” Her lower lip quivered.
    His heart twisted. He’d avoided women since Anne had died. He wouldn’t allow himself to be hurt like that again. But the sight of this woman alone and in tears broke through his resolve. He dropped to one knee drawing one of her small hands into his.
    Wrapping his other arm around her, he pulled her against his chest. She reached an arm around his back clutching him as if her life depended on it and sobbed into his shirt. He allowed her to cry a few minutes more. Her enticing scent and the feel of the soft feminine bosom pressed against him set his pulse racing.
    He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, handing it to her.
    After she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, she drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry.” She stood, extracting herself from his arms. “I don’t even know you.”
    He rose to face her. “It was my pleasure, ma’am. I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”
    She smiled at him. “I suppose you’d fix my problem if you could.” Saying nothing more, she bit her lower lip drawing his gaze to her generous mouth. Much time had passed since he’d felt a woman’s kiss, other than the perfunctory kisses bestowed by his female relatives. Despite the urging of his brain to leave, he leaned toward her. His lips touched hers, tentatively at first, then when she didn’t protest or pull away, he deepened the kiss and devoured her sweet taste. She tasted of apples and cinnamon mixed with salty tears. She’d likely been helping Mrs. Malone with the